


Just Another Girl

by Quantumcats



Category: The Killers (Band), brandon flowers - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pancakes, Vegas, fluff out the ass, i'm complete garbage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 12:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4745822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantumcats/pseuds/Quantumcats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're out on your own, driving nowhere in particular.  And this diner is the first civilization you've seen in a while.  So you stop and order some middle-of-the-night breakfast.  You meet the sweetest fellow...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pensivesoprano](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensivesoprano/gifts).



> Disclaimer: This is for fun. I adore Tana and her and Brandon's boys. They are a delightfully precious family and I would never wish them apart. This is just for the fun of daydreaming.
> 
> For the purpose of story, I juggled around Brandon's (and the Killers') discography a bit. The Killers may very well exist in this universe, but they are not featured here. I do very much love them all though!
> 
> Also - this was only loosely beta'd. Pardon any mistakes. Enjoy!

After miles and miles of dusty highway, this generic, chrome-shine diner is the first sign of civilization you’ve seen for hours. The neon sign hums as you leave the confines of your car, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs. You lock your car and step inside. The change from the desert air is palpable.

“Just one?” A brown-haired waitress asks you once inside. You’re not alone in your pause from the road here, noticing a few others seeking midnight respites from their journeys.

“Yeah, just one.” You respond. She grabs a single menu and silverware set, leading you to a booth by the window. You order tea and look over the menu. Would breakfast at 1am be weird? You decide not as you catch the scent of pancakes drifting from the kitchen.

Your waitress brings you your tea and takes your order. She writes it on her notepad and taps the pen against the paper to punctuate. As she walks off with a well-trained smile, you turn to look outside. Another car has pulled in, as well as a bus, and you pray it’s not too large a group. You’re not sure you could stand so many people in the middle of the night. Sighing to yourself, you add sugar to your tea and stir.

The bell on the entrance door sounds once, and a young couple is shown to a table on the other side of the diner. It rings again, and another guest patiently waits to be seated. This one catches your attention. You force yourself to stare at your tea as the waitress seats him at a table right by your booth (dammit.) You hear him order a Coke, and the waitress informs him that they only have Pepsi. You can practically feel his disappointment when you hear him breathe out in defeat. You even hear his leather jacket against the chair as he sinks a bit. This guy must really love Coke, or hate Pepsi, or something.

“Uh, water is fine then.” You hear him reply, and the waitress leaves.

You hesitate a few seconds, but then figure, what the hell. He’s really, really cute. And it’s been a boring drive tonight. Why not shake things up?

“I can’t stand Pepsi either.” You offer, your hands and heart tightening when he looks up from his menu. You nearly crush your tea mug when he responds with a little smile.

“Well it’s good to know someone else has a little sense.” He pauses. “I swear every diner this week has had Pepsi, Pepsi, Pepsi. It’s awful.” He jokes with another smile.

You smile back, and glance back down at your tea. Wow, he’s really cute. You can feel the blood rush to your face. But then you realize what he just said. “Do you frequent diners often?”

“Yeah, I’m…on the road a lot. Sometimes it’s nice to stop and eat a proper meal that doesn’t have microwave instructions on it.”

“I hear you. Where are you from?” You ask, hoping it’s not too forward.

“Just outside of Vegas, actually. A little town called Henderson.” He seems to perk up when he tells you this.

“Oh, so you’re not too far from home now. Cool. I’m from Pennsylvania.”

“What are you doing in Nevada?” He pauses again. “I’m sorry, that’s probably none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay.” You offer a smile. “I’m just, traveling. Road trip.”

“Yeah? To where?” He asks, seeming genuinely interested. God, that’s really endearing.

You think for a bit. You’re on a sort of self-discovery journey, just trying to see all you can. You’ve been on the road for three weeks. But he doesn’t need to know your life story. “Nowhere in particular. Just exploring.”

“That’s cool. Been to Vegas before?” He asks.

“First time, actually. You have any suggestions?” With that question, he lights up like the sun. On anyone else the expression would read as manic, but on him, it was truly adorable.

He’s about to answer, but stops short. “Would you like to join me?” He motions with his hand to the chair opposite him. You nearly pass out, but manage to pull it together.

“Yeah, okay.” You pick up your purse and tea, taking your seat across from him.

“I’m Brandon.” He holds out his hand to you, and holy shit those are nice hands. You remind yourself to breathe.

“Nice to meet you, Brandon. I’m (Y/N).” You answer, shaking his hand briefly.

“(Y/N). Nice to meet you, too.” He smiles yet again. This is going to kill you.

“Okay, a water for – oh. Um.” The waitress sets down his water in front of him, noticing your switch of tables.

“Is it okay that I moved?” You ask her.

“Oh, yes, it’s fine, I’m just going to note it down is all.” She crosses something out on her notepad. “There we go. All fine. Your pancakes will be out soon. And for you, sir?” She turns to Brandon.

“Pancakes actually sound really good. Short stack for me. Bacon on the side, please.” He hands her his menu.

“Okay, coming right up. I’ll see if I can’t bring them out at the same time.” She shoots you a knowing glance, and then offers him the same look. Real subtle.

You look down at your tea again. “So.”

“Suggestions?” He asks, taking a sip of his water.

“Suggestions.” You answer. He lights up again.

\------

You talk for hours in this little ancient diner. More patrons come and leave, you've both long finished your pancakes, and yet neither of you is itching to go. Brandon speaks with boisterous hand gestures, and you listen intently as he describes to you as many places as he can think of. Eat at this place at least once, make sure you visit that. The view from there is amazing at sunset. He goes on and on. For the few times you say something, he listens just as well as he speaks.

As the black sky outside takes on the blue tones of early morning, your conversation finally begins to wind down. You're both staring at the table now, knowing you must part ways. Brandon flips a spoon through his fingers and bites his lip a little.

"If you're really going nowhere in particular and....maybe hanging around Vegas for a few days I....could I...could I see you again? Maybe?" He asks, looking up at you hopefully.

Is your face on fire? It feels like it's on fire. You give a nervous laugh. "Yeah. Yeah I'd like that." You pick up a clean napkin from the table, and dig a pen from your purse. "Here." You write down your number and slide it to him.

He's beaming. "Cool, uh, let me give you mine too, just in case." He does the same as you. "I'll try to call tomorrow. If that's....if that's okay."

"Yeah, yeah that's fine." You smile at him, but then avert your eyes to the table in a bashful huff of laughter. He lays cash down on the table for his (breakfast? dinner?) and you reach for your purse to do the same.

"No, hey, I got it." He stops you.

"Oh my gosh, are you sure? That's...you don't have to do that." This guy is melting your heart right now.

"I'm sure. I had a great time. It's the least I can do."

"Oh...thank you."

You walk out together into the desert air as the distant mountains begin to take shape against the morning sky.

"Talk to you tomorrow then?" He asks you as you stop outside your car. He touches the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.

"Yeah. Talk to you tomorrow." You reply. God this is awkward. Sweet, wonderful, but awkward. Your heart is pounding - you really don't want to leave.

"Okay. Great!" His smile is so very, very genuine, and it's killing you. How is he real? "Until tomorrow then, (Y/N)." He holds out his hand. You take it, and share a really, really awkward handshake. He says goodbye and heads off toward the back of the lot.

As you get buckled in your car, you look up to see him getting on the huge bus. Who is this guy? You plan to find out. But for now, your mind is on getting some sleep at your hotel (or, trying to at least.). One hour to go.

You can't help but smile all the way there.

\------

You wake up around 11AM, groggy as ever. You didn’t even get to sleep until 7.

But then you remember why.

You roll over to grab your phone off of the night table, forcing yourself to blink the sleep out of your eyes as you unlock the screen. No new messages. You frown as you turn it back over. You lay on your back, staring at the popcorn ceiling above you. Sunlight is filtering in through the crack between the light-blocking curtains, cutting a strip of midday sun across the wall. You suppose you should probably get out of bed.

Letting the full power of the sunlight in was a shock to your system, but a necessary one. You gather your clothes and head for the shower.  
\----  
Stepping out, you wrap your hair in the plain white towel provided by the hotel. You half-heartedly throw on your clothes for the day and come back out of the bathroom. You sit on the edge of the bed, sigh, and collapse backward.

You hear a buzz. Several, actually. In rhythmic pattern. When you realize, you’re up like a shot. The caller ID says Brandon. He’s actually calling you, oh my god, he’s actually calling you. You take a few breaths and answer.

“Hello?” You act like you don’t know exactly who it is.

“(Y/N)?” Says the voice through the phone.

“Yeah?”

“It’s Brandon. From last night, at the diner?” He sounds so nervous, and you smile at how sweet that is.

“Oh, hi! How are you?”

“I’m good, I didn’t wake you, did I? I know it was pretty late when we left.”

“No, no, not at all. I’ve been up awhile. You’re good.” You laugh awkwardly.

“Oh good.” There’s a long pause.

“Still there?” You ask.

“Yeah, sorry, I just maybe should have thought about what to say before I called, huh?”

You laugh. You’re in the same boat. “It’s okay. What are you up to?”

“Well I have the day off, actually. What about you?”

“I honestly have no idea. I was going to just start wandering around town, to be honest.”

“Do you want a guide?” He offers.

There’s that fire creeping into your face again. “Yeah, sure. Meet me outside the Hilton in half an hour?”

“I’ll be there!” He sounds really stoked. Good lord, what a sweetheart.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, see you soon!”

You hang up and stare at the ‘call ended’ screen, biting your lip. This is happening. A cute guy is going to show you around the city. That’s some movie level shit.

You make sure to look nice while being cool and comfortable. The weather says 92 degrees today. Why did you come to a desert again?

\---

You’re losing your mind, heart pounding, as you descend in the elevator. The numbers on the LED display seem to be counting down to your death, the way your chest feels. You try to breathe, and force a calm(ish) face. The last ding sounds, and the doors open to the lobby.

Heading for the doors, you see him waiting outside. He’s in a blue shirt covered in white stars. On anyone else, it would look wildly stupid, but on him, with the sleeves rolled way up, it looks really damn good. You put on your sunglasses and walk out.

“Brandon, hey!” You call out. He looks up and smiles so big you thought maybe his face would break.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Long time no see.” That was such a dumb line, you can’t help but smile back.

“Yeah. …Good lord, it is hot out here.” Wow. Nice observation. “I mean…I guess with the whole desert thing..”

“Yeah, it comes with the territory.” He mercifully stops you from talking. “Ready to go?”

“Sure, where to?”

“Well…have you eaten yet?”

“No, not yet.” You didn’t realize how hungry you were until now.

“Okay, then lunch? I know an open air place with a great view…”

“Sounds great.”

\---

Under the shade of a giant umbrella, you sit on the balcony of what has to be the coolest little bar and grille you’ve seen. Brandon points out a few things on the menu, his personal favorites, and orders (surprise) a Coke. You stick with water in the heat.

Once you’ve both ordered your food, you decide to start the conversation. “So you said you have the day off?”

“Yeah.”

“Off from…? If I might ask.” You give him an out, just in case.

“No shows today. Don’t have another one until Thursday.”

“Show?”

“Yeah. I’m a musician; I sing and play some stuff.”

“Oh, really? That’s awesome. What kind of music?”

“I guess you could call it Indie Rock? I’m not really sure what to classify it as, y’know?” That should, by all means, sound pretentious. But coming from him, it doesn’t.

“Nice, I’d be interested to hear it sometime.”

“Really?” He looks at you like a little kid, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah!” You laugh. He does too. And it’s possibly the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard.

“I think I could make that happen.”

“Alright, yeah. I’d like that.” You both sit in silence for a moment, and then the waiter is back with your food. A few minutes in, he strikes up more conversation.

“So what do you do, (Y/N)?” He asks, quite genuinely interested, or at least really good at acting that way.

“I’m a teacher. I teach elementary school back in PA.”

“That’s sweet. Kids can be really funny. A little girl, without letting go of her father’s hand, randomly blurted out to me the other day that she saw a unicorn once. And I’m pretty sure she believed it, too, y’know?”

“Yeah, they’re a trip. You just never know what they’re gonna say. I have stories to last days.”

“Could I hear a few?” He asks.

“Um….okay. Well, let’s see, oh! One time, during storytime…” You tell him a number of memories from your days teaching. He giggles often, and you wish you could make him laugh like that all the time. Your heart tightens when you think that honestly, you really would. It tightens more when you realize you can’t stay here forever, but you push that out of your mind. You’re here right now, and you’re not letting any of this pass you by.

\---

Brandon pays for lunch, too, even though you insist on splitting the bill this time – he just won’t take no for an answer. He claims it’s a small price for the lovely company, and you melt from more than the afternoon heat.

You aimlessly walk down the strip, Brandon pointing out famous places. You come upon a hat store, and take turns putting the dumbest ones you can find on each other’s heads. You’re both laughing when he puts on a sombrero and quips, “Olé.” It’s really stupid, and shouldn’t be nearly as funny as it is, but there’s something infectious about him that has you almost doubled over.  
You continue down the boulevard, and Brandon pulls you by the wrist into a hotel called The Venetian. As you step inside, the first thing you notice is the ceiling – it’s painted and lit meticulously to look like an afternoon sky. There’s a fountain and reflecting pool in the center of the lobby, complete with a statue ‘pouring’ water.

“Wow.” You let out.

“Neat, right? I thought this was the coolest thing when I was younger. I used to stare down the statue workers until they moved. Unfortunately for me, they’re very good at their jobs.”

“Statue work- OH” You had looked away for only a moment, but now the poolside statue was in a completely different pose. If Brandon hadn’t said something, you’d have thought you lost your mind. He’s right – that is impressive.

You and Brandon start walking back up the boulevard towards the Hilton, making light conversation on the way.

“I had a fun time today, Brandon. Thank you for the tour.” The sun was getting low now, the color of the light getting a little warmer.

“Yeah, I had a good time, too. And you’re very welcome.” You stop in front of the hotel, and Brandon checks his phone. “Hey. Do you…do you want to see something really beautiful?” He asks. You pause for a moment. What the hell, right?

“Yeah. Yeah, alright. What is it?” You ask.

“We’ll have to drive there. How do you feel about motorcycles?” He asks. Generally, you feel very much terrified of them. But his face stops you from turning it down.

“Well…as long as there’s an extra helmet for me.” You respond. He beams again.  
“Alright, sweet, wait here, I’ll be right back!” And with that, he practically runs around the side of the hotel to the parking lot. A minute later, you hear the crackling purr of a motorcycle engine. He pulls up in front of you and holds out a helmet. “C’mon, we gotta hurry or we’ll miss it.” You take it from him, swinging one leg over the back of the bike. The motorcycle is rumbling beneath you as you put on your helmet, making sure it’s on tight. You were scared to death, and maybe he noticed.

“Just hold on to me. You’ll be fine, I promise.” Yeah, he noticed. You tentatively wrap your arms around his waist, and he revs the engine. You tighten your grip and feel him laugh.

He drives you right out of the city, out into the surrounding Mojave. This should be terrifying you. There have been plenty of moments where someone a little more rational might have thought, hey, maybe speeding out of a town you barely know on the back of a motorcycle with a practical stranger isn’t the best idea. Yet here you are. The wind feels amazing, and the desert is beautiful, and he is beautiful. You have a passing thought that you’ll never forget this.

Brandon slows to a stop as he pulls off the road, not a soul in sight. Again, should be creepy. Again, entirely isn’t. You’re up on a rocky outcropping, and you can still see the glow of Vegas in the fading light. But that’s nothing compared to the warm, rich tones filling the sunset sky. You take off your helmet to see better, stepping off the bike. Fiery reds and oranges paint the undersides of the clouds like heated steel. A warm purple fills the gaps between, and deep violets cut stark shadows where the light doesn’t reach. The sun is just fading from golden to flame, spreading its waning light across the desert sand.

“Isn’t it incredible? After all these years, it’s still as breathtaking as it’s always been.” He takes a few steps to stand beside you.

“It’s…Brandon, it’s beautiful. You really weren’t kidding.” You answer, not once looking away from the picturesque landscape.

“Here, c’mon.” He taps your arm gently, beckoning you to follow. He leads you over to a perfect spot to sit on an enormous, terra-cotta colored rock. He sits down and invites you to sit beside him.

Shoulder to shoulder, you sit in silence, just taking in the natural beauty before you. The night desert wind blows gently as the sun dips lower. The glow of Vegas grows brighter as more and more neon lights come to life. You feel a hand softly cover your own. You look to Brandon, who responds with a warm smile, and you return the same. You rearrange your hands to lace your fingers together, and lean your head on his shoulder. You hear him breathe out, half laugh, half contented sigh, as you both watch the sun go below the horizon. And even long after it, when the stars come out, you haven’t moved an inch. But without the heat of the sun, the desert air was starting to chill.

“The temperature difference in the desert is wild. Sweltering during the day, cold enough for a jacket at night…” You mention.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty big contrast between day and night.” He answers. “Are you cold?”

“A little. But I don’t want to go back just yet. The stars are beautiful, now that the clouds moved out.”  
“Alright, then. We can stay a bit longer if you want to.” And with that he wraps his arm around you, his warm hand on the crest of your shoulder. You feel that fire creeping up again. Is this what heaven is like?

You watch the stars for another half hour or so, talking occasionally. You yawn, feeling tired after the long day. Brandon does the same right after you. “Hey, no fair, those are contagious.” He says through his yawn. You both laugh, but quietly, finally having run out of energy. “You ready to head back?” He speaks softly, turning his head toward you. Your eyes feel heavy, and bed does sound great right now.  
“Yeah.” You answer, barely forming the sound.

“Alright, c’mon. Wake up a little, I don’t want you falling off the bike, okay?”

“Mkay.” You respond weakly, standing up and stretching. It was only a few minutes back to the hotel. You could make it.

The ride back was downright chilly. You pressed yourself into Brandon’s warm back as much as possible. He didn’t seem to mind.

When you got back, you handed him back his helmet, and stepped off the bike. You tucked your hair behind your ear nervously, looking at the asphalt beneath your feet. Brandon took off his helmet to say goodbye.

“I know I’m sounding like a broken record at this point, but I did have a great time tonight.”

You laugh, not yet looking up. “No, no, I know. I did too. Thank you.”

“I’d like to do this again…if you would?” He looks up at you, and you meet his eyes. The neon lights reflect through them, creating lots of little points of light. The hotel lights cast sharp shadows on his face. And he looks like an angel in the night.

“Yeah.” You answer, glancing down to his lips. “I would.” You move closer, and he closes the distance. It’s a short, gentle kiss, but his lips are soft and careful against yours. He brings his hand up to rest on your cheek, running his thumb sweetly over the skin. It’s over much too quickly, but you know you should slow down. “Goodnight.” You tell him, smiling as you turn to go inside.

“Goodnight.” Brandon nearly whispers, and when you look back for a moment, you see him smiling wide as he puts on his helmet and revs his bike. The purr of the engine fades away as you get back inside. When the elevator doors close, you reach up to touch your lips, barely able to keep from screaming. Inside your hotel room, you slide down the wall to the floor, giddy as a teenager.

You don’t sleep much that night either, but the sleep you do get is some of the most peaceful you’ve had in a long time.

\-----

You’re at breakfast the next day (continental, hell yes) when you get a text from Brandon.

Hope I don’t wake you, but I wanted to invite you to my show tomorrow night. Do you want to go?

Of course you do. What a silly question. But before you can respond, you get another text.  
I mean, you don’t have to. If you don’t want to that’s cool.

Always so nervous. You simply text back, I’d love to. You imagine him smiling. Your chest feels warm at the thought.

Great! I’ll leave your name at the door. - You wait for him to realize.

It occurs to me I don’t know your full name.

There it is. You laugh as you type it out, taking a sip of your orange juice first.

Perfect. I’ll leave your name with the staff! The show is at Vinyl at the Hard Rock. Doors open at 7, but come whenever you like.

You were always a sucker for live music and cute boys. You had no chance with this. You take a bite of your toast, thinking of what to say, if anything.

Could I get a cd or 2 so maybe I’ll know some of the words by then?

The reply is almost immediate. Definitely! When do u want me to drop them off?

What’s good for you?

Hm…2pm? That’s five hours from now. You’re not sure what you’re gonna do in the meantime. But you’ll figure something out.

Works for me. Meet u out front then. K?

K. (You see the period, but fully acknowledge the implied exclamation point.)

\----

Flowers, by the way. Brandon Flowers. It’s only fair you know my name too.

Flowers. Of course he would have some precious name like that.

\-----

Your day goes slowly, and you keep checking the time on your phone as you lay by the pool. 11am. You know you should go back inside sometime soon. No one needs this much Vegas sun at once. After a dip in the pool, you head back upstairs to your room. 12:15. You have a few minutes before you need to jump in the shower.

You flip on the tv, clicking through the ten channels one by one, a few times. Nothing much on, so you switch it back off and toss the remote on the bed. You open the door to your tiny balcony, and look out on the city around you. You’re so far from home. And here you are, fawning over a boy like he’s the whole world. You feel like a teenager, honestly. But there’s something about him that really takes hold of your heart, so you decide what the hell. You’re going to let it happen and see where it goes.  
You’re just worried about when the time comes to go back east.

You think of his smile fading from his face. It’s not something you look forward to.  
\---  
1:55. You decide that’s close enough and head down. You sit in a lobby chair by the window so you can see him when he gets there. You’d wait outside, but you’re not so crazy that you’d willingly fry in the heat for him. Why he wears pants all the time, that’s a mystery to you. You wonder if he even owns shorts.

At 2:10, you hear the crackle of a motorcycle go by, turning into the parking lot. You meet him outside, and wonder to yourself why his t-shirt says “VINCE”. But it looks great on him, so you aren’t too concerned about it.

You share an awkward hug and exchange hellos. Brandon holds up three jewel cases with cds inside. He hands them to you individually.

“This one here is Flamingo. And this one, this is Day and Age. And this one is Battle Born. Flamingo is the one I’m touring for, so if you want to know the words, that’s the one to listen to. But I do have a few from Day and Age and Battle Born in the set, so, it’s whatever really, y’know?” He scratches the back of his head.

“Thanks, I’m excited to check them out.”

“Cool. Let me know what you think. I have to go run some errands for the show, but maybe…dinner?”

“Sure.”

“8?”

“8 works.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up, ok?”

“Ok. I’ll see you then.”

“Right. Great. Cool. I’ll see you then. Uh,” He hugs you again. (what a sweetheart. An awkward, awkward sweetheart).

“See you later, (Y/N).” And with that, he heads back to his motorcycle. You hear it start up as you go back inside. You could get used to that sound.

\---

Dinner is casual and fun, as all your meals seem to be. Even through the nerves and jitters, there’s an ease to it that feels almost natural. You tell him you’ve been listening to the cds all day.

“Do you have any favorites?” He asks.

“I really love Crossfire, and Magdalena, from Flamingo. And Runaways from Battle Born is amazing. And Spaceman is my favorite from Day and Age. Of course that’s just so far, I’m still working through them.”

“I’m glad you like them. “

“I do.”  
“Still on for tomorrow night?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Great, I’m glad.” Brandon smiles at the table, twirling a spoon in his fingers just like he did back in that dusty diner. “Any interest in stargazing tonight?” He looks up at you, and you meet his gaze.

“Yeah. I’d love to.” Your heart is pounding in your ears.

Brandon picks up the tab again. You fight him a little less this time.

\---

Brandon gives you his leather jacket this time as you race through the desert. You hold on tight, but you’re not as afraid as you once were. You could get used to this. It’s wild and exhilarating and nothing you’d ever thought you’d do. But here you are.

Brandon takes you back to the same spot as before, just far enough from the city to see the stars a little more clearly. You even sit on the same rock, too. Brandon wraps his arm around you, and you huddle close to him. He’s warm, even without his jacket, and smells just a little like roses. You feel his thumb affectionately tracing organic patterns on your shoulder.

“Brandon?” You say quietly.

“Hm?” He responds.

“Will you sing for me?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, please? I mean you don’t have to-“

“No, no, it’s okay. What song?”

“Uh….Crossfire?”

“Yeah, okay.” He pauses for a few moments, and begins:

There’s a still in the night outside your window…  
You’re keeping secrets on your pillow…  
Let me inside no cause for alarm…  
I promise tonight not to do no harm…..

He doesn’t sing the whole song, but the parts he does sing are sincere and sweet. His voice isn’t perfect but that makes it all the more endearing. You feel like you’re going to burst.

“You have a lovely voice.” You tell him. He laughs at that, and thanks you genuinely. “And your laugh is really sweet.” Which makes him laugh again, bashful as a child. “I mean it. You’re very sweet.”

“Thank you. And you’re kind of….awesome. It’s just…..it’s really easy to be around you.” He confesses.  
You take a moment to think it over. He’s right. “There is something really easy about this, isn’t there?”

“Yeah.” He pauses for a second, and you feel his fingertips on your chin, tipping your head up toward his. He kisses you gently, sweetly. Your heart swells as you shift yourself to face him, lips brushing again and again. He takes things slow, letting you set the pace. You bring your hand up to touch his hair. Your other hand rests against his cheek, a tender touch.

You feel his arms shift to pull you closer, and you wrap yours around his neck. He deepens the kiss, testing the waters. You let him, but break it after a few seconds. You’re laughing.

“What?” He asks, still holding you close. You rest your forehead against his and smile.

“I just….this is happening. Right now, this is happening. I’m not dreaming, this isn’t some weird alternate universe. We’re really here, right now, and this is all happening.” He breathes out a huff of laughter. Joy is practically radiating through his skin.

“I’m really glad you decided to have pancakes at 1 in the morning.” He says.

“Me too.” You both laugh for a moment, taking it all in. You close the distance between your lips once again. But now you can feel him smiling against yours.  
\---  
You stay out for hours, sweet kisses interspersed with deeper ones. His large hands slip under the back of your shirt, just to the small of your back, and sweet JESUS they're cold. You gasp and he pulls back.

“Sorry.” He offers.

“It's okay, just cold.” You return. And though you would love to see where all this leads tonight... “We should be getting back, yeah? As much as I wish we could stay out here all night, it's really cold and you have a show tomorrow.”

Brandon hums his discontent, but agrees reluctantly. He stands, and offers his hand to you. You take it and he pulls you back in for another kiss, sneaky bastard.

“Couldn't resist.” He says, and you roll your eyes affectionately. Not that you're complaining.

“C'mon.” You nudge him toward his bike, and you speed off into the night, holding onto him as closely as you can. You can feel his heart doing flips. You can feel yours doing the same.

He pulls up outside the Hilton, and there's a pit in your stomach at having to leave him. You take off your helmet, as well as his leather jacket, handing both back to him. He stows the helmet and slips into the jacket. “Get some sleep so you don't fall asleep in the middle of your songs, okay?” You joke.

“I make no guarantees.” He jokes back, leaning back against his bike. He reaches up and cradles your face with both hands, pulling you in for one last kiss tonight. It's a little less chaste than some of the other ones have been. He pulls you closer by your lower back, until your body is flush with his. He drops his hands to rest on your hips as he breaks the kiss. “I'll see you tomorrow, then.” He says, low enough that only you can hear.  
Your entire body is electrified, heart skipping, head whirling. “Yeah.” You manage. And with every ounce of will you have, you let go of him, walking back inside. Oh, man, do you have it bad.  
\---  
You head out the next morning to find something pretty to wear, and you kinda hate yourself for it. You didn't think you were the type to spend extra money on a date outfit on vacation. Though, it's not often you went on dates on vacation, so, screw it, you're going to look nice.

You manage to find something in your budget, a pretty top with a large keyhole in the back. You stay out a while longer since you don't have much else to do. You walk the boulevard, ducking into cafes and boutiques if only for their air conditioning. You don't buy much more than lunch and water, though, and soon find it coming on 4:30pm. You should get back.

You clean up and get dressed, taking extra care with makeup and even painting your nails. Why does this guy turn you into a teenager, a total girly girl? You think about last night, and how sweet and downright romantic he was. Yeah, that might be it.

You hail a cab and head to Vinyl.  
\---  
When you get to the venue, you approach the door. “Doors open at 7.” The man tells you. He has a shirt on that has 'STAFF' printed in huge letters across the front and back.

“Um, yeah, I know, uh, Brandon said he left my name?” He looks suspicious.

“Can I see some ID?”

“Yeah, yeah sure.” You dig for your wallet and hand over your driver's license. “Here.”

“Alright, go ahead.” He hands it back and opens the door for you. It's not terribly long until the doors open for everyone else, maybe 20 minutes yet. But at least you'll be in the front for sure.

You take note of the venue, and it's cozy – not tiny, but not a stadium for sure. It's dark and hip, with hardwood flooring and brick walls. You see the stage set up already, and wonder if there's an opener. There's amps on the stage that say “Brandon” on the side. Guess not.

You're not mad about it.  
\---  
People pour in behind you, some stopping to buy merch, most speed-walking (you hear “don't run!” being called out by some staff) toward the front of the floor. You're front and center, leaning against the railing separating the audience from the stage. The room fills with nondescript syllables as a hundred conversations go on around you. You see people with shirts that just say “BRANDON” on them. You also see about 20 separate people with a necklace similar to Brandon's – a small, silver charm in the shape of Nevada.

You listen in on some conversations to pass the time. “I'm so stoked to hear him live.” “Oh, this is your first Brandon show?” “Yeah, I can't wait for Magdalena.” You silently agree with the girl next to you on that point. You do love Magdalena. But Crossfire has a special place in your heart.  
The lights dim, and the audience cheers as the band takes their places. The sound of a single synth note fills the venue. The sound begins to flange and pulse, then quiets back down. It settles out to a chord, and then you hear the opening riff.

Brandon practically launches onto the stage, swinging right into Spaceman with blinding enthusiasm.

He sounds great live, and you're smiling like an idiot. He dances like a goofball, and if that isn't adorable you don't know what is. You're singing along, as this is one of your favorites, and his energy is infectious. You finally catch his eye, and see him smile like a kid through the second verse. He gives you the tiniest of waves and carries on with the show. His exuberance fills the entire venue, and he's beaming like the sun for most of the performance.

Then you hear the opening piano of Crossfire. Your breath stops short, and the blood in your veins is on fire. Brandon looks to you, smiling fondly, and everything around you ceases to exist. You're back on that desert rock, watching the stars, just the two of you.

He sings to you.

I promise you babe I won't do you no harm...

You believe him. Oh, how with your entire being, your whole heart, you believe him.  
\---  
He closes with Human, which reminds you to ask about those lyrics – are we human or are we dancer? What does that mean? Is that even grammatically correct?

Brandon blows a kiss to the crowd before he steps off the stage, the whole room roaring. This guy is an incredible performer. You count yourself lucky to have met him. And you feel yourself fall just a little more.

As the crowd begins to disperse, a staff member approaches you.

“Are you (Y/N)?”

“Yeah.” You respond, a little confused.

“Follow me please.”

You do as he says, following him through a restricted area, out back to the bus lot. You see Brandon reaching into a crowd to sign autographs, posing for pictures with fans. He's really so sweet it hurts.

“Miss (Y/L/N)? Brandon has requested you wait in his bus. He will return once he is done with the fans.”

“Oh, okay. Uh...”

“Right this way.” He opens the door to the tour bus, and if you could stuff an entire house into a bus, this is probably what it would look like. There's a small kitchen, cabinets, a sofa, a few bunks, and a closed door in the back. You decide sitting on the couch is as good a place as any.

And so you wait.

After a while, you hear the bus door open, and Brandon steps inside. You stand up to greet him. “You were fantastic!” You say, throwing your arms around him. He has a sheen of sweat on his skin, but you don't particularly care. He wraps his arms around you.

“I'm so glad you're here, (Y/N). It means a lot to me that you came.”

“I'm glad I did, too.”

He pauses and steps back. “Sorry I'm all gross. Jumping around stage is great cardio.”

“I can see that.” You laugh.

“Just uh, just give me a few minutes to get cleaned up, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead.”

“Alright, back in a few. You can just hang out.”

“Ok.” You answer, and he heads toward the back of the bus.  
\---  
You keep yourself occupied by looking around. You laugh when you see three cases of Coke nestled in between the “kitchen” table and the wall. What a dork.

You hear the tiny shower turn on, and you are totally not thinking about him behind that door. You are definitely not thinking about him washing the sweat from his skin right now. Your heart is definitely not speeding up when you hear the shower turn back off.

After a few minutes, his door opens again, and he comes back out wearing a black t-shirt and sweatpants. He still manages to make it look good. He drops beside you, tipping his head against the back of the couch and closing his eyes. “So much better.” He breathes.

He smells really, really good right now. He moves a little closer to you, close enough to whisper. Holding your gaze, he speaks softly. “I’m glad you’re here, (Y/N). I mean that.” You smile and bite your lip, feeling almost dizzy now. He touches your face gently. “For some reason, you just…you make me really, really happy.” The last word is chopped into sweet laughter. You can’t help but join him for a moment before capturing his lips against your own. He joyfully returns the kiss, pulling you close as before. But this couch is most definitely more comfortable than the desert rock.

It feels easy and natural as he pulls you into his lap, his hands warm and comforting. Warm hands you wouldn’t mind against your skin. As if he could read your mind, he slides his hands up the back of your shirt, fingers splayed across your spine. He scratches the skin just a little, and moves his hands to your hips.

He breaks the kiss briefly, breathing heavily just as you are. “Is this okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You respond, and he smiles.  
“Good.” He kisses your lips again, and then begins a trail down your neck. His warm mouth on your skin is heavenly, and you angle your neck into the affection, your fingers tangling into the dark locks of his hair. You push him back to take off your nice new shirt, throwing it aside. He follows suit, and holy shit he has an amazing body. He looks even better somehow with his Nevada necklace against his chest.  
He just…looks at you for a moment, absolute affection lighting his eyes as they meet yours. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers. You laugh and collapse back into another kiss.

His hands roam your exposed skin, and he pulls you close to continue his work on your neck. His breath is warm on your collarbone as he grazes the skin with his teeth, pressing your hips downward as he does. But apparently that’s not enough, because he picks you up just then, wrapping your legs around his waist. You knock things off of shelves as he carries you to his room in the back. He lays you down on his bed and climbs over you, his necklace hanging in the space between you. You see a slight sheen of sweat beginning on his collarbone again. It suits him.

“Still okay?” He checks. You find it very sweet of him to make sure. How in the world did you get this lucky?

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” And with that, he presses your forms together, recapturing your lips for a moment, and then kissing slowly down your chest. You pull him back up to you, dragging your thumb just under his waistband. He laughs and rolls you both over.

You never make it back to the hotel that night.  
\---  
The morning comes all too soon, but you don’t mind, because you wake enveloped in a strong embrace. Brandon’s arm is curled around your waist, holding you close like a teddy bear. You can feel his breath on your neck as he sleeps.

You take time to think as you lie there together. How in three days you’ve fallen so hard for someone. How you feel so safe right now in his arms. How you really, truly, don’t want to ever leave.

But you know you have to.

You turn over to face him, and he blinks his eyes open. His voice is rough with drowsiness. “Morning.” He smiles, kissing you lazily and humming in contentment.

“G’morning.” You whisper back. He tangles his legs with yours beneath the covers.

“How’d you sleep?” He asks.

“Wonderfully. Once we did sleep, that is.” You both breathe a huff of laughter.

“Yeah.” He whispers, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

You feel the blush creep over your entire body this time. You laugh nervously, not used to such genuine compliments. You believe his every word. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You answer. He lets out a small, breathy laugh.  
“Let’s stay in today. Not go anywhere. Just you and me.” He pleads. And it breaks your heart.

Your smile falters and a silence falls over the room. “I have to go home, Brandon.” You tell him, wishing for all the world you didn’t.

His smile fades ever so slightly as well. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Brandon, I can’t. I have to go home.” You pause, adding, “Home home. Back east.” And god, why do you almost feel like crying right now? You knew this was coming.

Brandon’s face falls entirely. He props up on one elbow. “Wh…what do you mean? But…” He stutters, a look of sadness making its way into every part of his expression. Sadness mixed with, if you had to name it, panic. Fear.

“School starts next week…it takes days to drive home from here…I’m sorry…I wish I could stay.” Yeah, you feel like you could cry any second now.

From the looks of it, so could he. But in that moment, you’ve never seen someone build up a wall so fast. “You should get dressed.” He says, devoid of any emotion. Your heart is breaking.

“Brandon…” Before you can say anything, he’s inside the bathroom with the door shut. You do put on your clothes, and knock on the door. “Brandon? Brandon, please.”

The small door swings open. His eyes are red and face blank. You see him break for a second, but he shores his walls back up immediately. This is the last thing you wanted to do to him. “You can’t just…make me…” And that’s the last emotion you see. He closes his eyes. “You should go.”

“Brandon.”

“GO.” He snaps, and tears begin to roll down your cheeks. He closes the door again.

As soon as you step off the bus, you lose it completely. You knew that wasn’t going to be easy, but that…that was awful. You never intended to hurt him. It’s the last thing you wanted. But you have to go back east, there’s a whole class counting on you.

As you call a cab, you’ve never felt lonelier in your life.  
\---  
The drive home takes four days. It would usually take three, but you’re dragging it out a little, not quite ready to leave this limbo.

School starts, and you try to put your heart into it. You get by, but are never really all there. Not completely. It’s not that the kids aren’t a great bunch, they’re wonderful, but everything feels wrong. 

Every morning you wake up and hope that maybe, when you turn over, you won’t be alone.

But every time, you are.

Months fly by as you continue to make attempts to distract yourself. Christmas comes and goes. You ring in the new year amidst happy couples, standing alone with a stupid party hat. You feel pathetic. How did he dig his way so deep into your heart? Why is he so hard to forget? You think of those nights spent stargazing, and the night of his show. And his eyes, the way he made you feel so safe.

You know exactly why.

You’re sitting at home washing dishes with the tv on low sometime in January. Something the newscaster says catches your attention. She’s at the Electric Factory in Philadelphia, doing a story on local concert venues. She mentions a few of the upcoming shows.

His name sparks an electric current in your bones. You turn up the volume.

“Crooner Brandon Flowers will be performing as part of his tour for Flamingo on Thursday night. Back to you…” Before you can second guess yourself, you have your credit card out.  
\---  
Sleep doesn’t come easily that night. Or the next. You keep teetering between excitement and nervousness. What if he moved on? Then again….what if he hasn’t? Questions plague your mind right up to the doors of the Electric Factory that Thursday. Your every muscle is buzzing, every nerve firing, brain rushing ten directions at once.

You don’t stand in the front, finding you don’t quite have the heart to. But you’re not too far back.

The opening band comes and goes, nothing notable about them. And then the final minutes pass glacially slow. Finally, the lights dim and the audience cheers. Your mind races back to the show at Vinyl last year, but snaps back when he comes out on stage. His energy levels are high and he puts on a great performance. You enjoy the songs he plays, and he looks fantastic, but your heart shatters with every note. Your entire system is still buzzing and your heart is pounding. Maybe it’s the music. But it’s probably not.

Near the end of his set, he takes a minute to speak to the crowd. “This next one, ah, it isn’t released-“ The audience cheers. “-hold on, hold on. It’s not released yet, and I wrote it pretty recently. You guys are the first to hear it. And maybe the message will get through, if I’m lucky, y’know?” The audience is a little confused, but cheers louder anyway. “Alright. Guys?” He gestures for his band to begin.  
The song has a sweet, airy sound at first. He starts to sing.

I step out into the Indian Dust…  
I can feel the cracks in my spirit  
starting to bust…

It’s sincere. A sincerity you remember permeated his every word back in Nevada. Your heart swells at the thought, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt.

And all of my friends say  
I should move on…  
She’s just another girl  
Don’t let her stick it to your heart so hard.  
Is he….is this…about…no, it couldn’t be. The song is sweet nonetheless, and it makes you ache to your very core. But then you hear the line.

Well maybe my friends should confront  
The fact that I don’t want  
Another girl…

You’re starting to believe that maybe, just maybe…

Why can’t I sleep at night?  
And why don’t the moon look right?

The genuine pain in those wailing notes draws you forward. The magnetism pulls you right past everyone else in the crowd, and suddenly, you’re front and center, just like you once were long ago.

She’s just another girl…

He stops in his tracks. You smile up at him, and your heart threatens to jump from your chest. He returns the smile, singing the last line, and proceeding to jump off the stage, leaving the mic on the floor.

The audience gasps, oohs, and shouts as he approaches you.

“You’re here.” He says, just loud enough for you to hear over the crowd.

“Yeah.” You answer.

“I….I’m so….I’m so sorry.” He says, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.

“I know, me too.” You sob-laugh. There are far too many emotions going on to pick one.

He reaches across the rail and takes your face in his hands, kissing you with all the emotion locked inside for these last four months. The audience is freaking out, but you barely notice, as everything melts away. It’s just the two of you again.

“Stay after the show, okay?”

You’re tearing up pretty heavily now. “Okay.” You agree. He beams as he gets back onstage, picking the mic back up.

“The message got through, guys!” The crowd cheers, and as it always had with him, everything feels surreal again. You didn’t think it was possible, but Brandon performs the rest of his set with even more energy than before.

“Alright, guys, last one for tonight.” The audience awwwws. “I know, I’m sorry. But I’m glad you could all come out, tonight has been incredible. Thank you all so much! Alright guys, let’s take it home.”  
The opening piano notes of Crossfire ring out in the old factory. Now you’re full on crying. He sings with such joy and affection in his voice. And as before, you believe every line.  
\---  
He comes to find you after he’s done with the fans, immediately wrapping his arms around you, as if he believed his embrace was the only thing stopping you from leaving again.

“Brandon, I’m so sorry.” Now he’s laugh-crying.

“No, I’m sorry. I acted like a child back then, it was so stupid.”

“I should have told you sooner.”

“I could’ve taken it better.”

A quiet falls over you both as you hold onto each other, just breathing. It feels so natural, as it always had.

“I missed you.” You confess quietly. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too. God, did I miss you.” He holds you tighter, burying his face into your neck.

Another period of quiet. “So what do we do now…?” He finally asks.

You ponder thoughtfully. “We make it work.” You answer at last.

“Yeah?” Hope lights his eyes.

“Yeah.”

“But…how?”

“We’ll figure it out. There’s planes, trains, and weekends. We can do this, if we really want to.”

“…Do you want to?” He asks you.

“Brandon, do you even have to ask?” And with that, he kisses you, smiling against your lips. Joy is once again radiating from his skin. You’re glad to see him this way again, and you hope you get to make him smile for a very, very long time.

A little laugh escapes his lips between kisses, breathy and sweet, and you’re positive this is what heaven is like.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
EPILOGUE

The plane rides are long, the rides home even longer, but you make the trip whenever you can. He's always waiting outside the terminal, lighting up as soon as he sees you. The weekends are never long enough, but you take what you can get. Summer comes, and you welcome it, saying goodbye to this year's kids, and packing your bags for Vegas. You spend entire weeks there sometimes.

He tells you he loves you one morning in April. It's early, and the sun is just peeking into the room. He says it simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You kiss him and return his affections, both of you laughing in bliss.

You never leave the hotel that day.

\---

It's only a little over a year before you move to Henderson. You find a humble home in the small town and frequent the diner where you first met. You find a job teaching morning kindergarten nearby. He's home whenever he can be, or at least at his studio. You like to surprise him some days, dropping by for a visit. He likes it too.

Your first Christmas in your new home, Brandon buys a tree that is 100% way too tall for the ceilings. You had a feeling at the tree farm it wouldn't quite fit in the living room, and you told him such, but he assured you that was nonsense. You two force it into place, the highest boughs bent sideways at the top. You both decide it's perfect anyway, and proceed to decorate it.

The following Spring, you take a trip out to the desert to watch the sunset and gaze at the stars, something you've done hundreds of times before. He seems especially reminiscent tonight, and you both talk about those first days together in Vegas. You tell him how hard you fell from the start, how safe he always made you feel. How he has always felt like home to you. He tells you how much his heart raced when you were together, and how it still does sometimes. When the air becomes a bit on the chilly side, neither of you is tired enough to go home yet. So once again, you return to that old highway diner. When you walk inside, you see Brandon whisper something to the hostess. She smiles, and you see her say “of course!”

She sits you down at the same table where you once bonded with a stranger over your picky soda habits. Before you can even speak, Brandon orders both of you pancakes (you were going to order that anyway....but....alright). You're loving the nostalgia this evening, as you remember meeting that night; you, aimlessly wandering, trying to find yourself in the world. And him, just starting to come down from the post-show high. Even through all your nerves, and the absolute fire under your skin, talking with him was the easiest thing in the world. But you could never have guessed it would lead you here, to this life, this incredible love.

The waitress brings out two plates of pancakes, setting down Brandon's first. But he doesn't seem to care. He's looking at you instead, and looks almost...nervous? The waitress sets your plate down, and you can't even breathe for a moment. Gently placed into the center of the stack of pancakes was a beautiful ring, glittering even in this dim-lit diner.

“Oh, my god, I, oh my god,” You stutter out.

Brandon looks at you expectantly, eyebrows knit together. You wonder why he would even worry. “Yes, a thousand times yes.” And here come the tears, rolling like little rivers down your face.

“Really?”

“Brandon, of course I will, you dork.” You stand up and wrap your arms around one another, both of you letting this all sink in. He's laughing, you're laugh-crying, and the few other people in the diner cheer for you.

He slides the ring onto your finger, and even now, you still can't believe all of this is real. “We're getting married!” He yells to the mostly empty diner, but he doesn't seem to care. He just wants to tell anyone who will listen. “She said yes,” he says to the waitress, who obviously knows this. She smiles and congratulates him. He turns back to you.

“You said yes, you, we're getting married, I...” He pulls you close again.

Once you finally settle back into your seats, you're both giddy all through the meal. Back at home, the exhilaration is still nestled deep within you both as he picks you up and carries you right upstairs.

\---

Later as you wind down to sleep, you laugh fondly.

“What?” He asks.

“You put the ring in the goddamn pancakes. Only you would ever… I just, I really, really love you.”

“I love you, too.” He says in between laughter. A quiet falls over the room. Brandon holds onto your hand, rubbing his thumb over the ring. “How did I get so lucky?” He asks.

“I could say the same.” You respond. Heat blooms under your skin, as it had a thousand times before, but it's warmest in your heart. You fall asleep in the sweet fortress of his embrace.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

~END~

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for hanging with me through all that schmoop, lord jesus. I wrote this with maximum fluffy cliche schmoopy power to destroy my girl Jess' heart as thoroughly as possible. She had to stop several times to put her head down. My sadistic little heart swelled proudly.
> 
> If you're here, you're obviously as deep in the brandon flowers dumpster as I am. Good to have you with us. (Even if it's just for the length of this story.)
> 
> I intended it to be like, 3k words? maybe? But shit got away from me, yknow? I hope you liked it, and if you did, please do comment! I love hearing feedback, and I love you for being here! :)
> 
> THANK YOU!!


End file.
